After The I Do's: A Fosters Fanfic
by bebekids
Summary: Starts right after summer finale episode. My version of Season Two.


**After The I Do's - A Fosters Fanfic**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just borrowed and improvised the plot line.**

**I got extremely pissed with the end of the first season, so I'm improvising. It took me awhile, but I am. If you've read my other story, you'll see that Brandon isn't as light hearted as Sex and Guitars Brandon is. So, one shot, or do I continue? You'll have to let me know...**

**R&R!** (Rate and Review)

I'm the worst boyfriend in the history of boyfriends. And brother. Son, too. Here I am, sitting in a faux leather armchair, waiting for the plane to take off._ This_ is what happens to cowards. If I'd just spoken to her, none of this would be happening. But she's _scared_, my mind stressed. I have to respect that. Apparently I am too.

_Damnit!_

Why does my life have to be so easy? I'm missing that roughage she has. I guess that's a good thing, considering where a sheltered life has taken me. The piano, school, guitar, my scholarship, damn it all to hell, all I care. Might as well put myself there, too. That's what life is without, _her_. Hell. Cindering ash collecting my personality. 'Course, I just figured that out. I hadn't noticed, until recently(as in the past 24 hours, recently) the way she's changed me. Isn't it convenient knowing your whole existence is crumbling to ash, even before the pain hits? I caught luck in the face; I was numb until about 5 minutes ago.

Numbness is a beautiful distraction. It was the only time I didn't think of, her, and the damage I've most likely done permanently. Anger and frustration rip through me, and I grip the armrest harder in an attempt to douse the cindering sides; people were starting to stare. I start to flip them off, but that would be rude. I don't need to drag others into my pain fest. An old lady, who's listening to a cassette tape, keeps staring at me, despite the daggers I'm sure I'm glaring at the whole plane. She's still looking up at my face.

"She must be very pretty," she says. I just stare, confused.

"The girl you're going to save. She must be very gorgeous." She explains. Was the stumbling agony in my face that recognizable?

"Oh, dear. Have I frightened you? I'm not that strange, honey. It's just that your face reminded me of my brothers' so much."

"Your brother?" I decided to be polite with her.

"Yes, my best friend, and his girlfriend Elliot May Jenson, ran away when she fell pregnant with his child. He hitch hiked all the way to D. C. to come find her. I-"

"She's gone," I start, but I don't feel bad for cutting her off. "She's my foster sibling." I whisper, but she doesn't seem have a problem hearing me. "Our mothers got married today, well, yesterday now, and she kissed me. And I kissed her back." I pause. "I'm sure you can see where the problem is. I love her so much, and to see her face like that...and to know that I caused it; that's the worst possible thing to endure. She doesn't deserve me, someone who can't understand her like _he_ can. And she's not even mine..." I choke, grief staggering my carefully built façade . I allow a silent and single tear to roll down my cheek; past my nose, mouth, and I feel it drip down my chin.

"I'm running out of ways to pin her pain on myself, I-" I realize that I'm blabbing my sorrows with a complete stranger, then.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"It's quite all right, dear." She pats my my unclenching fist and turns back on her cassette tapes.

I feel unstrong. I feel like I've failed the old lady, my family... but stranger things happen every day. I try to close my eyes again; I already miss the blinding numbful haze I was in, and I'm running out of fire extinguishers.

_Flashback:_

_I was dreaming, I'm sure of it. Firstly, because Callie's ear was pressed up against my thudding heartbeat, her body sprawled across mine. We were in a room, there were candles lit, and you could see the waves gently crashing against the sand through the french doors. A tan sheet cover our entangled bodies, but I could tell we were unclothed. I decided to relish in the moment and not wake her, so I closed my eyes to rest. Then, I felt a soft kiss press to my lips and I faintly heard retreating footsteps, but chose to ignore it._

Big mistake. I could've stopped her, I could've-

It was laughable now, to expect dreamless sleep. I unlock the screen to check the time. 6:41 a.m. Nobody's awake yet. I scroll through my messages and find the copy of the text I sent to Jesus. It's up to him to decide if he wants to share or not.

_I'm okay. I caused this, but Callie's about to ruin her life and burn mine to ash if I don't find her. We'll be back soon, once I convince her. Don't look for me; I have to do this alone to keep from falling apart. You can make fun of me when we get back. Promise._

_Brandon._

I sent to Talya:

_I'm sorry I'm such a horrible excuse for a human. I'm sorry you ever felt the need to comfort me, and I'm sorry you didn't find someone better before you dated me. I want you to find someone who thinks you're beautiful, someone who can make you laugh. Someone who isn't such a selfish prick. You were right._

_Brandon._

I believe every word. She needs someone who she can trust.

My life is like a chess game, now. _She_, is the queen, and I'm the king. Talya's just a pawn I jumped to save her, a distraction. Why couldn't I be satisfied with what I have, or had? _Forbidden fruit always tastes better than all creations_. Of course. That's why. I lay my head back for a second chance at sleep.

"Attention passengers, please fasten your seatbelts. We will be landing in La Porte, Indiana in twelve minutes time."

Here we go.

**R&R**

(Rate and Review)


End file.
